Paper Houses
by addisonsderek
Summary: They agreed to give their marriage another chance, but only resulted in failing to salvage their marriage. Derek leaves New York, reflecting on the one-third of his life and revealing the effects of his choice to settle upon divorce on his former family.


**A/N: I found this in my drafts, and I wrote this last year and never published it. It's just a little story based on Paper Houses by Niall Horan, so I hope you enjoy! And forewarning, it was the middle of AP testing in my junior year of high school when I thought about this and there a plethora of words that I incorporated in this story that we were using in class to prepare for the exam. So sorry about that, but I still hope you like the story :)**

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 ** _"_** ** _Why did we climb and fall so far?"_**

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There are instances where there are creations of a perfect life. Establishments of assumptions, assuming that the foundation of a perfect life is built on strong, durable elastic bands. Believing that every little thing from a powerful storm to a regretful action can fend off the possibilities and outcomes of being destructed. There are instances where the creations of a perfect, wondrous life aren't always what many people expect to happen. The establishments of assumptions that many have curated among themselves pile on, weighing down our ability to perform simple tasks. The strong, durable elastic ties wear out, and soon, the connection and love fade away.

Fairytale beginnings and happy endings, a common expectation in relationships and a trite plot in many stories. The beginnings and endings that are often written are fictitious, and no tinge of reality is incorporated in. Reality, it isn't perfect, included with many imperfections and defects that cannot be controlled within grasp. The beginning of a romantic encounter isn't always fairytale-like and the endings regularly contained fatal ones; a broken heart or a regretful act.

No one had seen it coming, for a relationship to crumble and succumb into signage of divorce papers. Their relationship, so strong and raw, the both of them completed each other. Built on a strong, durable foundation, assumptions of being indestructible. At any time and at any instance – even with eleven _strong_ years – resilient relationships even had the possibility of suffering the harshest storms.

His footsteps descend down from the staircase, each step heavy with agony and compunction. Copious flights of stairs that he had spent most his life climbing, primarily to establish the foundation of his career, relationship, and eventually family. Education; restless and endless nights of studying to ascend to the top of class at Columbia. Love; forming a relationship to ascending to the maximum aspect of a relationship – marriage. Family; ceaseless trials of IVF to climbing to the birth of their first child together.

But _now_ , he's descending down, as a husband and as a father.

One hand grasps on to a single, dilapidated suitcase. The other hand, sliding down the banister. Behind him, a wife – _ex-wife –_ and a daughter follow with great distance and caution.

The suitcase is set down, gently. Silence filtrates the air, and any mention of an evocation could set them off. The two of them had argued about anything and everything after the commitment of adultery and prior to the settlement of divorce. Neither one spoke, fearful of eliciting the wrong word, which would convert into an irrelevant, circular quarrel; a continuous accusation towards one another for the demise of their once stout marriage.

He looks slowly and painfully over his shoulder. _Don't look back, move forward,_ people say. But it was hard not to, hard not to turn and take one last look at the people he once called family. Addison refuses to meet his gaze, stiff and still on the staircase, their daughter tucked against her hip. It's difficult to see her at such a low point, where her shoulders hung low and the natural pigment of her skin drained of discoloration.

A part of him wants to stop, climb the stairs he spent his life climbing, and envelop her in his arms and provided the love and comfort she's craving. But at this hour, minute, and second, the two of them were no longer Addison-and-Derek, at this moment in time, they were just Addison and Derek.

 _Eleven Thanksgiving's, eleven birthdays', and eleven Christmas's._

He lazily scrawled his signature across the rich, white paper, signing away the one-third of his life in a matter of seconds. He can't embrace Addison in his arms, provide the chest to be cried on, and reassure her that everything will be okay. Derek can't elicit those actions when he was the one who insisted to sign it all away.

His figure lingers in the foyer, hesitation occurring, attempting to refrain his very self from walking out those doors. He's still staring at them, culpability emanating within him, scolding himself for not implementing any effort in their marriage to make it work again.

 _We're Addison-and-Derek, we don't quit._

They had agreed to reconcile, to give their marriage another chance. Though, all of the effort of making things right again were all produced by Addison, and he was just going through the motions. Although he had agreed, he had also believed that there was no point in recovering their frail relationship after finding Mark with Addison.

But as he looks back, matching sad eyes with Addison, he realizes he was partly to blame on his actions – the basis of the situation that could have been avoided if he had just been _there_.

Absence, it was the primary cause of the collapse of their marriage. The one-third of his life, creating flights of stairs that would be the foundation of his life, rising so far to the reach the stars in his career, only causing his marriage to fall so far.

Derek looks away, not believing he could execute such a repugnant act; leaving them. Still, no one had spoken. The sounds of raining pounding against the roof could only be heard, along with the grandfather clock in the foyer, ticking away at the last, final moments he had with his family.

"Go say good-bye to daddy," Addison whispers, under subtle tears.

Tiny, little feet descend from the stairs. He can't look back now; he can't bring himself to look at her now.

 _I can't look at you. I look at you and feel nauseous._

A sleeve is tugged, and he's bringing himself to not scream, cry, and scold himself. How could he do this? How could he just sign and end his family in an instant?

"Daddy?"

There she is, a carbon-copy of Addison, inheriting black waves, and interchangeable blue and green eyes that Addison has depending on the lighting. Half of him, and half of Addison. Her features are soft, a mind so innocent, and unaware of the consequences of their divorce. He stoops down to her level, staring into identical, crystal-like orbs. "Hey, Hales."

Addison is still silent, leaning against the banister of the staircase, observing the exchange of conversation between father and daughter. Haley blushes and gushes at the nickname her father had given her, and exposes the infamous Montgomery smile – the gap in the front two teeth.

"Are you leaving?"

He nods, redirecting his gaze to the floor. He feels Addison's gaze on him momentarily, but as soon as he glances over to where she stands miserably, she turns away once Haley asks the question they're both dreading to explain.

"When are you coming back home?"

 _You stay, I'll go_.

Addison opens her mouth to say something, but she decides not to. She remembers, how Derek has Haley around his finger, the two of them do everything together, despite Haley inheriting most of her attributes. She leaves it to Derek to explain his intentions of him leaving because it was his decision, decision to leave them behind and never look back.

"Well, Hales, it's going to be a long time until we see each other again. But remember, we'll _always_ see each other during holiday's and summer vacation. We'll spend a lot of time together, just you and me."

Haley gazes back at Addison, who continues to remain mute, observing the exchange of words between the both of them. Hurt saturates her body, her natural glow seized from her, and the confidence she continually presented was now gone. She smiles at her mother, but only receives a fabricated one. Her smile subsidizes into a sad frown, turning back to her father, a pool of tears beginning to fill her innocent, beautiful eyes. A single, salty tear cascades down her olive, pigmented skin, and with fatherly instinct, Derek wipes it away with his thumb, enveloping Haley into his arms.

"What about mommy?" Haley asks, sadly, saturating Derek's navy-blue sweater with tears.

Derek is at a loss of words, unable to curate and form the correct words to explain the definition of divorce to a five-year-old. Addison descends from the stairs, exchanging brief eye-contact with Derek. She mimics Derek's pose, and he allows Haley to fall into Addison's hold.

Addison had a play with words, always carrying the knowledge of knowing what to say at any given situation – it's how he made it through med. school, internships, residency, and fellowships. But currently, the ability to deliver the precise words of wisdom had temporarily faded away.

She was unsure on how to explain divorce in such a simple, understanding way for her five-year-old daughter to grasp and comprehend. "Daddy isn't going to live here anymore, Hales. He's going to live another home and you'll be able to see him as much as you'd like – he's just a plane ride away."

Derek nods, rubbing circles against Haley's back, trying his best to relieve her. "Yeah, Hales, I'm just a plane ride away if you need me," Derek supports, "Maybe you can convince Bizzy to let you fly on that private jet of hers."

A slight smile appears on Addison's lips at his joke and for the first time – since the incident - he smiles at her. She catches a glimpse of him, smiling, and her grin remains intact. She raises her head, wiping incessantly away at the tears that cascaded down her porcelain-like cheeks. Her brow is furrowed with confusion. "You're not coming back?"

He shakes his head sadly in response, as Addison feels Haley's body tense up against her, hoping that all this was just a bad dream; that Derek isn't leaving them behind and wishing she shouldn't have been with Mark that night. Haley speaks again, "Why?"

He turns to Addison for assistance, but she has lapsed into silence again, giving him no choice but to explain the split between the both of them to their daughter. She had wanted to try, resolve their marriage and be stronger than ever, but Derek had thought differently.

"You see, Haley," Derek begins, silently, "When two people fall in love, you have these assumptions and expectations for every little thing to be perfect. You know, just like in the fairytales I read you."

Haley nods in agreement. "Happy endings." Haley supplies, confidently.

"Yeah, happy endings," Derek confirms, "But, in real life, happy endings don't always happen. The two people who had fallen in love have the possibility of falling out of love with each other. And when the prince and the princess fall out of love…"

He briefly glimpses at Addison before continuing, and she hurriedly looks away to avoid looking into his eyes.

"And when the prince and princess fall out of love," Derek reiterates, "They decide that leaving each other is the best thing to do; to relieve the hurt and pain they caused each other, hoping that one day, they will find happiness with someone else."

A new set of tears discharges from her eyes, as her whimpering and uneven breathing increase. Addison promises herself, not to cry in front of her or him, to be strong and not show weakness. But a single tear escapes, and Derek is no longer obligated to wipe them away with his thumb.

"Hey," Derek whispers, taking Haley into his arms, "I may not be here physically, but just remember, I'll always be in _here_."

He places his palm above her heart, and he exhibits a convincing smile. Haley smiles slightly, placing a hand over his. "Forever?"

"Forever."

He leans in and plants a kiss on her forehead, where Haley then decides to wrap her arms around her father tightly. "I'll miss you, daddy,"

He plants a kiss on her forehead, and then envelops her into his arm, delivering a tight hug that will last the months Haley would be able to see him again.

"I'll miss you, Hales," Derek chokes, "You'll always be in my heart."

"And you'll always be in mine, daddy."

She still wondered, where those exchanged of words derived from. The phrasing became so significant and special to Derek and Haley, often vocalized when the both of them were going to be separated for a long period of time. He had his slew of medical conferences, and she had her series of conferences, but compared to hers, Derek's medical conferences were much lengthier and out-of-state. Unlike many father and daughter relationships, Derek and Haley's bond and connection was special, having her wrapped around his finger from the first breath.

Derek and Haley release from their hug, "I'm going to talk to mommy before I go. I'll call you before my flight, okay?"

Haley nods, and runs up the stairs, waiting for the shutting of the door before beginning their conversation. Addison folds her arms, wondering what Derek had to possibly say to her. There shouldn't be a conversation, it would do much more harm than good. He had signed, and now, he should just leave her for good instead of leaving a sympathetic farewell.

But, she could read him like an open-book, all secrets and tactics memorized perfectly. The way he lingered in the foyer, glancing back-and-forth between her and the front door – hesitant and regretful for what he had done. She had expected the hesitation to arise on the day he had served her divorce papers, not the day he was expected to leave and begin his new life without her.

"Did you get everything you needed?" Addison asks, barely audible.

He nods in response, remaining silent. The remorse continuing to increase within him, creating the effects of hesitation of walking through the front doors and leaving everything behind.

"Addie."

As the lethargic weeks drifted, soon after they agreed to give their marriage another chance – she's surprised to hear him call her by her nickname. Hearing it now seemed foreign, similar to the unconditional love that their marriage once possessed.

"Yeah?"

"The both of us," Derek began, slowly. "Are we going to be okay? I mean, despite everything that happened these past couple of months. Are _we_ going to be okay?"

Addison shrugs, the reality setting and uncertainty finally washing over her, speculating whether or not the both of them would remain civil divorcees for the sake of their five-year-old daughter. She knows, that there is a part of him regretting his decision to end their marriage. But there's also a part of him that still possesses some sort of hatred towards her.

She's assured on many complex, trivial matters. Continually performing and taking risks in her career as a surgeon. But her ex-husband insinuating whether or not they will continue to be civil, she isn't so sure.

She's lost, and she's afraid.

"Don't deny it, Derek," Addison replied, softly. "Deep down, you still loathe and despise me for what I did. Knowing that there is still some part of you that isn't so fond of me, I don't think we'll be okay."

"Addison…"

"Just stop, Derek. You're the one who wanted to end our marriage, not me." Addison defended. "Don't pretend that there isn't one part of you that doesn't hate me."

"I really wanted to make it work – _us_ work."

"Then why didn't you work harder to salvage our marriage?"

Derek doesn't respond.

He can't look at her. He can't bear to look into her cerulean eyes, which now appear to be empty for the continuous hurt and pain he had caused her. Instead of dealing with the mess he had made, he's doing what he does best – walking away.

The front door opens, and Addison gazes up. She's expecting to find Derek's figure walking out the door, though she finds the last person she wants to see.

"Oh, uhm," he says, uncomfortably. "This is awkward."

Addison is tense, and she doesn't know what to do. Mark gazes between Derek and Addison, unsure of what to say or do. But, Derek is the first to disrupt the silence, looking behind his shoulder to Addison before settling his cold, azure eyes onto his former best friend.

"You can have her."

Without the hesitance and resistance that he was experiencing earlier, Derek picked up his suitcase, opened the door without looking back, and leaving to begin a new life on the west coast; ending the one-third of his life in a matter of seconds.

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 **A/N: Bad, unhappy ending, but please review anyway :)**


End file.
